What a Sweet Sound
by Vintage Tea Party
Summary: It's Henry and Jo's first Christmas as a married couple and to celebrate Jo has a special gift for Henry.


Henry and Jo had been happily married for a few months when Christmas came and it was the happiest one either of them had celebrated for many years.

Jo had long since settled into her new life at the antique shop by the time that first lovely Christmas morning her, Henry and Abe shared together arrived. By noon they had already opened the many beautifully wrapped presents (Henry always went overboard, though neither his son nor his wife complained much about being spoiled) and had moved on to the rest of the day's celebration. Abe had gone straight to the kitchen and worked on the dinner and the apartment was filling with scents that hinted at the grand and delicious meal to come. Henry was busy at the piano filling the apartment with carols.

Jo smiled as she stopped to stand in the entryway of the living room to watch him for several minutes. He was wearing a dark green waistcoat that made him look festive without being too overboard. He had the sleeves of his shirt pushed up to his elbows and she admired the way it showed off his surprisingly strong arms. In contrast, his fingers were delicate and graceful as they moved along the keys.

Jo found she was not only smiling but grinning ear to ear when she thought about how happy she was today and how much she loved her odd but wonderful little family. She glanced down at the package in her hands and felt a burst of excitement as she thought about what Henry's reaction would be to this gift.

She slowly and quietly walked up behind him and he was so deep in concentration that he didn't even hear her coming. She pressed her lips to his neck then leaned in close to his ear and whispered, "I love it when you play." She continued to kiss along his neck as she wrapped her arms over his and his hands stilled under her touch.

She felt the rumble of his laughter against her lips. "Then one must ask the question, Detective, why are you distracting the musician? Not that the musician minds being distracted."

Now she laughed. "I have a present for you," she whispered, before kissing his ear a few times.

"Oh yeah?" he asked with obvious interest. He turned his hands over to link his fingers with hers and wrapped her in closer around him as he turned his face to hers. "Shall we relocate?"

She kissed him on the lips now, long and slow. She knew she shouldn't tease him too much but it was just so much fun. She pulled back an inch and smiled at him. "No, no, no. You'll be getting _that_ later."

He leaned towards her to kiss her and surely to try and convince her otherwise. But she pulled back. "So impatient," she said shaking her head. "Maybe I want to give you something to anticipate."

"Maybe you're a cruel woman meant to torment me," he said, his voice low and alluring.

"Maybe," she teased and he tilted his head to kiss her neck a few times. Despite herself she paused a few moments before adding. "But maybe I have something else you might be interested in."

He pulled back to look at her, arching a curious eyebrow at her. "I'm listening."

She detached herself from him and sat down on the bench beside him, pulling the wrapped present out and setting it on his lap. He looked at it curiously before turning to her and asking, "What is this?"

"A Christmas present of course."

"But Jo, you shouldn't have gotten me anything else. You already gave me so much."

Jo rolled her eyes. "Now you sound like my old abuela," she paused and mimicked her late grandmother's voice. "'You kids shouldn't have gotten me anything! It's too much!'"

He snickered. "Besides," she added back in her own voice. "This didn't cost much at all."

"Oh?" he asked sounding pleased. "Could this be a sentimental gift, perhaps?"

"Maybe," she said glancing around and feigning innocence. He was the sappy one so his curiosity was greatly peaked by this news. She looked over with excitement as he began to open the gift and found she just might like being the romantic for a change.

He unwrapped in and then lifted the top of the box off revealing a single piece of paper in the box. He lifted it and read it.

"Josephine...Morgan?" he said reading the official change of name form. He looked up at her, his mouth hanging open in surprise. "You changed your last name…to Morgan?"

She smiled and nodded her head. "Yeah," she said quietly.

Henry was speechless for few moments, glancing alternately between her and the paper. "Jo...I know that I am old-fashioned and traditional in many ways but I have tried to move along with the times. I understand that women don't always change their names when they get married these days."

"I know you do."

"I never wanted you to feel like you had to change your name. It didn't bother me that you wanted to keep yours."

She knew he was being honest but she couldn't help but laugh a little inside as she saw the rather affectionate way his fingers were brushing along the 'Morgan' on the sheet even as he was trying to reassure her. He didn't even realize he was doing it. "I know that, Henry. You didn't pressure me into anything. I _wanted_ to change it."

He looked at her with an expression that said he didn't quite believe that. "Honestly, "she insisted. "I really did."

When she had married Henry it hadn't felt right to change her name since she hadn't done the same when she'd married Sean. But after her and Henry were married it, strangely, didn't feel right not to have changed it. Henry and Sean were two different men and it didn't make sense to have the same standards or expectations of marriages with them. They had a lot of similarities when she thought about it but they had a lot of differences too. There was one major difference between the two of them and it had been the deciding factor in her decision.

"What made you change your mind?" Henry asked, still obviously surprised.

"Well," she said giving him a sneaky smile. "You have a history of being quite the flight risk you know."

He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at her, looking very much like he wanted to give a lecture. They had had this discussion many times. "You know very well that I'm done with that now. I'm not going anywhere," he said, still pretending to be annoyed but his voice was reassuring and soft on the last sentence. He knew he had frightened her in the past with his tendency to want to pick up and leave town at the first sign of danger.

"I know. And now...I want you to know that I'm not going anywhere either."

He'd been nothing but supportive when she said she was keeping her own name. He'd been expecting it even. Nevertheless, it _did_ matter to him. And it wasn't because he was old and set in his ways either. As much as she liked to tease him for being out of touch with reality she had to admit he had adapted to the modern age quite well all things considered. No, this meant a great deal to Henry for quite another reason.

She'd been thinking about this a lot in the past few months and she'd realized something about his name and the significance of it to him. In an ever changing world his name had been the one constant. He had changed places of residence and employment more times than he could count but never his name. His name reminded him who he was, helped him hold onto his identity even as everything around him became different. In a life that meant constant losses it was the one thing that he got to keep. For the man whose wife had once changed her name in order to leave him and whose son had been forced to change his name in order to stay with him, Henry's name meant more to him than any mortal could comprehend. Becoming a Morgan told him she claimed him, accepted him, would be loyal to him always. Wherever his secret might lead them, whatever it may cost them she was going through it with him until her dying breath. They were partners, lifelong partners, in every way and she was privileged to share this part of him as well.

Watching him now, she knew she had made the right choice. He could see what this meant, could see all she understood about him even though she didn't say it. "You...you know me very well," he said in a shaky voice.

He pressed his lips together and smiled though his eyes were shiny with threatening tears. Watching him, her wonderfully emotional husband, she felt she was very likely to join him if he started crying. She knew from experience that if they started to get teary now they would probably be crying all the way through the turkey and even until after the pudding. Knowing Abe would probably like to avoid a tear-stained dinner, she attempted to lighten the mood. "Besides, I kind of like the sound of 'Detective Morgan,'" she said with a smile.

He smiled even though the jury was still out on whether he would cry or not. "It does have a very sweet ring to."

"I love you."

"I love you," he said placing a hand on her face and smiled, "Mrs. Morgan."

She smiled as he kissed her and thought: Yes. That had a very sweet sound to it indeed.


End file.
